Love is Blind
by preachersgal
Summary: Nearly two years after Catherine's death and Vincent is coming out of his mourning while raising their young son. He comes to the aid of another young woman who shows him a different side of the world above.
1. Chapter 1

_**LOVE IS BLIND – PART 1**_

_Disclaimer: Beauty and the Beast and its characters belong to Ron Koslow and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. _

_**[Vincent/OFC]**_

Vincent sat in the darkened alleyway between the two buildings. He wrapped his cloak around himself tightly. The sounds of the city streets seemed far off as he listened to the violin music floating down from an open window off the third floor fire escape.

The music stopped and he heard voices.

"Gwen, don't stop. Just play a little more," an elderly woman's voice said.

"Nana, you need to get your rest. The doctor said –"

"I know what the doctor said. He thinks he knows everything!"

The young woman's voice chuckled, "I'll make you a deal. You take your medicine and lay down to rest. If you do, I'll keep playing until you fall asleep."

"All right – don't get pushy with me, Gwennie."

"Come on. Here you go. Let me tuck you in. There. What would you like me to play, Nana?"

"Anything," came the sleepy reply.

The lights went off in the apartment and a sweet melody filled the air.

Vincent listened for a while longer, smiling to himself. Then he slipped down into the building's basement to return to his world.

~*~

In the early morning light, Guinevere Daniels stretched and pushed back the covers. She slowly stood and pulled on her robe. Blind since the age of ten, she'd lived in her grandmother's apartment long enough to know her way around easily. She was now twenty-five, tall and slender, fair-skinned with long dark hair.

She left her room and went to check on her grandmother.

"Nana? It's time to get up and have your medicine," Gwen said entering her grandmother's room.

Receiving no response, Gwen made her way to her grandmother's bedside. "Nana?"

Reaching down to touch her grandmother's cool extremities, Gwen gasped as tears flooded her eyes. "Oh Nana!"

~*~

Gwen spoke with the police officers who came and the coroner. Plans were made for her grandmother to be taken to a funeral home nearby.

"We're Jewish," Gwen said, "so the funeral has to be by sundown."

The coroner nodded and patted her hand, "We'll see that everything is moved along. I've looked over her doctor's records. The cancer was advanced and this was not unexpected. Shouldn't be any need for an autopsy. I'll sign the papers for you."

Gwen nodded, "Thank you." She let out a breath, knowing it would be a busy day. She went to the phone to make some calls.

~*~

That evening, Gwen was walked back to her apartment by her grandmother's old friend, Mrs. Shaw. Gwen used her white cane efficiently to move about.

"Are you sure you want to stay here alone tonight, Gwen?" Mrs. Shaw asked.

"Yes, this is my home. I'll be fine," Gwen said.

"It was a lovely service. Your grandmother would have been so pleased to hear you play for her," Mrs. Shaw said.

Gwen unlocked the door, "Thank you for driving me home."

"It was my pleasure, child. Now you take care of yourself and I'll call you next week."

"Good night," Gwen said, entering the apartment and closing and locking the door behind her.

She set her violin case aside and removed her shoes. She made her way across the apartment and opened a few windows. It was a warm night. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, so she decided to clean up.

~*~

Gwen used her white cane to make her way down the back stairs. She carried a trash bag to toss into the garbage cans. She felt better that she had cleaned up the apartment. But she felt sad and quiet now without her grandmother. She opened the door to the alleyway and stepped out. Using her cane, she located the trash cans. She placed the trash bag down and removed a trash can lid, lifting the bag to place inside it. She had just replaced the lid when she heard sounds in the alley.

"Who's there?" Gwen asked, turning toward the noises.

Laughter. "Hey look," a man's voice said, "it's the blind chick."

"Hey chickie, what are you doing all alone?" A second voice asked.

"I'm just putting out the trash. I don't want any trouble," Gwen said.

"Oh we're not lookin' for trouble either," the first man said moving close to Gwen, "just a little bit of fun." He pushed her.

"Don't," Gwen said, raising her cane.

Both men laughed harder. "Gonna hurt us?" The second man asked.

One of them grabbed her and Gwen swung her cane, connecting painfully with the first man's head.

"Damn bitch!" He cried, shoving her hard and knocking her into the trash cans. Gwen and one of the trash cans both tumbled to the ground.

The click of a switch blade was heard. The second man hovered over Gwen, "Enough of this fooling around crap."

There was a flash of movement in the alleyway and a dark figure appeared before the two men.

"Leave her alone," a deep voice said.

The second man spun and swung the switchblade, "Private party, pal. Get lost."

Vincent chuckled, "I think that's my line." He batted the switchblade from the man's hands. The first man jumped on Vincent's back and Vincent tossed him aside easily.

The second man ran at Vincent and was also swatted aside.

"Hell, let's get outta here, Andy!" The first man called as he yanked the second man to his feet and both men fled.

Vincent moved toward Gwen. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, moving to sit up. Vincent reached down and took her elbow, helping her to her feet. "Thank you for what you did."

"You're welcome. Do you need any assistance?" He asked, handing her the white cane.

"No, I'm fine now. Who are you?"

"My name is Vincent."

"I'm Guinevere Daniels. But everyone calls me Gwen."

"I know. I've heard you play your violin before."

"Oh – do you live in the building?"

"No, but I've sat in the alley and listened to you play," he said quietly. "Your music is beautiful."

"Thank you. But why were you sitting in the alley? Don't you have a home?" She asked knowing how many homeless people wandered the city streets.

"I have a home."

"I'm glad. I hope that in the future, if you'd like to hear my play, you will come to my apartment. You shouldn't be sitting in the alley," she said.

"I mostly keep to myself," he replied.

"Why?"

"My appearance tends to frighten people."

"People can be ignorant. You don't frighten me and I've been blind for the last 15 years."

"You don't know what I look like," he said.

"I don't have to. You are a good person, Vincent. I can tell," she said with a smile.

"How is your grandmother, Guinevere? I know she's been ill."

"She died in her sleep last night," Gwen said quietly, blinking back tears.

"I'm so sorry."

"Her funeral was today. I – I just was cleaning up," she said as a tear slipped down her cheek. Gwen sniffed, "I should get back upstairs. It's late."

"Do you need help making your way?" He asked.

Gwen smiled lifting her cane, "No, I've managed for a long time. Thank you again, Vincent, for coming to my rescue. I hope you will come and see me sometime."

He smiled, "I would be pleased to."

"Good night."

"Good night," he replied, watching her enter her building and closing the door behind her.

TBC . . .


	2. Chapter 2

_**LOVE IS BLIND – PART 2**_

_Disclaimer: Beauty and the Beast and its characters belong to Ron Koslow and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. _

_**[Vincent/OFC]**_

A few nights later, Gwen was in her apartment when there was a tapping at the window off the fire escape. Gwen was sitting in the living room, which was off the hallway where the fire escape was located. She set her book on the coffee table and moved toward the window.

"Who's there?" She called.

"Guinevere, its Vincent," came the reply.

Gwen moved to unlock and open the window. "Vincent," she said, "what are you doing on the fire escape?"

"Coming to see you," he replied.

She chuckled, "You certainly like to make unusual entrances."

He climbed into the apartment and closed the window.

"Let's go sit in the living room," she said. "It's more comfortable there."

Vincent followed her into the living room. She turned on a lamp in the darkened room.

"Watching you move, one could almost forget that you don't have your sight," he said, taking a seat beside her on the couch.

Gwen smiled, "It's only living in this apartment for fifteen years. I know where every piece of furniture is."

He glanced at the open book on the coffee table. "Is that Braille?"

"Yes."

"What are you reading?"

Gwen smiled. She lifted the book into her lap. "Let me see – where did I leave off?" Her fingers moved over the raised dots and she started to read.

_"Canst thou, O cruel! Say I love thee not, _

_When I, against myself, with thee partake?_

_Do I not think on thee, when I forgot_

_Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?_

_Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?_

_On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?_

_Nay if thou low'rst on me, do I not spend_

_Revenge upon myself with present moan?_

_What merit do I in myself respect,_

_That is so proud thy service to despise,_

_When all my best doth worship thy defect,_

_Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?_

_But, love, hate on, for now, I know thy mind;_

_Those that can see thou lov'st , and I am blind."_

"Shakespeare," he whispered amazed.

She nodded, "That it is. But I think you came here to hear me play, not to read sonnets." She placed the book aside and moved toward the fireplace. There was a music stand and her violin was on a small bench beside it.

"This is Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64," Gwen said. She lifted the violin and the bow and began to play.

Vincent sat back and listened, closing his eyes for a moment to just feel the music.

About mid-way through the piece, the phone began to ring.

"Just a moment," Gwen said, setting her instrument down on the bench and moving toward the phone.

"Hello," she said. Vincent noticed she frowned. "What do you want?" she continued. "No, I have company tonight. I've told you before that you are not welcome here. You couldn't come and see her when she was ill – you didn't even come to her funeral. No – you listen to me. The only reason you ever appear is when you think you smell money. Well, there is none. I've already signed over the money from her life insurance to pay for the funeral expenses. You've never cared. You've only cared about money. Don't call me anymore – please." Gwen was shaking when she hung up the phone.

"Are you all right?" Vincent asked.

Gwen swallowed. "No," she whispered with a slight shake of her head. She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself as though she were chilled but it was too warm of a night for that. It had to be something more.

After a moment, she turned back. "That was my father." She chuckled bitterly. She took a seat at Vincent's side and spoke quietly. "My mother died when I was six. I lost my sight when I was ten. My father had remarried and it was a faulty heater that exploded, causing my blindness. My father and stepmother filed a lawsuit and won a lot of money. Then they dropped me off at my grandmother's and disappeared for years. They never gave my grandmother any money to help with my care. She took care of me for many years. Saw to it that I went to a blind school so I could learn to be independent. She never turned away from me. That's why I stayed when she became ill with cancer a few years ago. She needed me and I was happy to help her. My father turned up a few months ago. He'd found out she was ill. But he never came to see her. Never thanked her for all she did for me. He only wanted to know if she had any money." Gwen shook her head. "That's all he cares about. All he's ever cared about."

"I'm sorry, Guinevere. I know about abandonment. I was abandoned as an infant," Vincent said.

"That's terrible, Vincent."

"I was found by a wonderful man who became my father. His name is Jacob. He raised me. I named my son after him."

Gwen smiled, "You have a son? How old is he?"

"He's almost two years old," Vincent said with a smile. "He's so like his mother."

Gwen noticed the change in Vincent's voice. "Something happened to her."

Vincent nodded then realized Gwen couldn't see him. "She was murdered shortly after Jacob was born."

"How awful for you, Vincent. At least you have your son – a piece of her left behind for you to cherish," Gwen said quietly. "Where is he now?"

"My father is with him. I only go out in the night when young Jacob is sleeping," Vincent said.

"You're blessed to have family that loves you," she said quietly.

"Would you finish playing that piece for me?" He asked after a moment.

Gwen smiled, "With pleasure." She moved to pick up her violin.

TBC . . .


	3. Chapter 3

_**LOVE IS BLIND – PART 3**_

_**[Don't own 'em. Don't make any money off 'em. Just love the CBS show. Gwen Daniels is an original character created by me.]**_

It was late when Vincent decided he should depart and return to his world. He and Gwen had spoken for hours, almost the entire night through.

"Vincent," Gwen said, "before you go. Would you let me see you?"

"What do you mean?" He asked a bit suspiciously.

"I use my hands, my fingers to see what people look like. I'd very much like to know what you look like."

"Gwen – I told you before –"

"I know. You said that your appearance tends to frighten people, which is why you live in your hidden city. But I'm not just anyone. I'd like to think that we're friends now."

"We are. But ugliness changes things."

Gwen sighed. She raised a hand to touch her own face, "Do you see the scars around my eyes?"

"They're hardly noticeable," Vincent said.

"But they **are** there. Do you know what assumptions people make about me – just because I'm blind? As though being blind, or deaf, or any other disability means you lack intelligence. I always thought that friends looked beyond the physical," she said.

"You are right. They should," He said. Releasing a breath, he added, "All right. You may 'see' my appearance."

Gwen reached up delicately and touched Vincent's face. Her hands moved carefully, touching his forehead, his eyes, cheeks, lips and finally his hair.

She drew her hands back and smiled, "Vincent, I don't know who it was that ever told you you were ugly. For you're not. Your appearance is regal, elegant, and majestic."

"Different," he added.

"And what's wrong with that? Wouldn't the world be a boring place if everyone looked the same? Diversity makes life interesting."

"Thank you, Gwen."

A few nights later, Gwen was in her apartment reading when a knock sounded at the door.

Gwen set her book aside and made her way toward the door.

"Who is it?" She called.

"Gwennie – it's Denise," came the reply.

Gwen frowned. Denise was her stepmother. "What do you want?"

"I just want to make sure you're all right, Gwennie. Won't you let me come in?"

Gwen released a breath. Something told her it was a mistake but then again maybe her stepmother was sincere. Gwen moved to unlock and open the door. She reached behind the door to flip on the light switch.

"Come in, Denise," Gwen said.

Her stepmother was tall, dressed very fashionably. Her hair was blonde, dyed naturally, and worn in an elaborate style. She glanced around the modest apartment with disgust, but her voice was sugary sweetness.

"Poor Gwennie. Your father and I were so distressed to hear about your grandmother. I just came here to be sure you were all right," Denise said, moving into the apartment as Gwen shut the door behind her.

"I'm perfectly fine," Gwen replied.

Denise began moving through the apartment, opening drawers and looking under the sofa cushions.

"Just what are you doing, Denise?" Gwen asked.

"Oh looking around," Denise said. "I haven't seen your grandmother's apartment in years. My, my, it hasn't changed one bit, has it?"

"My grandmother took into consideration that without my sight it would be easier for me to move about if little changed," Gwen retorted.

"I can see that," her stepmother's voice moved down the hallway. Denise ducked into one of the bedrooms and began to search through drawers, closets and under the bed.

Gwen stayed in the living room but called out, "Just what are you looking for?"

There was silence for a few moments and then Gwen heard Denise's footsteps coming back up the hallway.

"You know exactly what I'm looking for. Where did the old woman hide it?" Denise demanded.

Gwen frowned. "Don't refer to her like that."

"Fine – fine. Where did your grandmother hide her money?"

Gwen looked perplexed. "What money?"

"Your father said she's been hiding money here. Where is it?"

Gwen turned away, angry now. "I knew the two of you would never change. Grandmother didn't have any money. Only the small pension she received after grandfather died."

"What about her life insurance?"

"I used it to pay for her funeral."

Denise moved around to stand before Gwen and she grasped the young woman's shoulders. "All of it?" She shook Gwen.

"Yes, all of it. It wasn't a big policy. Just enough to cover her final expenses," Gwen said, her voice a bit unsteady.

Denise shook Gwen, hard. "You're lying!"

"I'm not. Let me go!" Gwen tried to pull herself from Denise's grasp.

Denise held Gwen with her left hand and smacked her hard across the face with her right. Releasing the younger woman from her grasp, Gwen lost her balance and fell backwards, tripping over an ottoman and landing on the floor on her back.

Some movement caught Denise's gaze and she looked down the hallway toward the window off the fire escape. She gasped at the sight that appeared before her eyes.

"What is that?" Denise hissed, moving backwards. "Monster – it's a monster!" The older woman tripped over the fireplace hearth and fell, cracking her skull on the way down. She lay on the floor, motionless.

Gwen began to rise, hearing the window slide open.

"Gwen?" A deep voice asked.

"Vincent?" Gwen replied. "Is that you?"

Strong arms reached down and assisted Gwen to her feet.

"Are you all right?" Vincent asked.

"Yes – yes I'm all right," Gwen replied. "Where is she?"

"Over by the fireplace. She fell. Who is she, Gwen?" Vincent asked, leading Gwen toward the prone figure.

"My stepmother. She came here looking for money."

"She saw me looking in the window. I heard you cry out," he said.

Gwen squatted down beside her stepmother. "Denise?" There was no response. Gwen felt for one of Denise's hands and checked for a pulse. There was none. She gulped, "She's dead."

"She hit her head when she fell. Gwen, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Vincent. It was an accident."

"If I hadn't come to the window – she was backing away because she was frightened – of me."

Gwen stood and placed her hands on Vincent's arms. "Vincent, if you hadn't come – she was going to hurt me. I told you she and father only cared about money. They had the idea that my grandmother had money hidden in the apartment. She didn't." Gwen shook her head. "Vincent, I need to call the police. You'd better go."

"But it was my fault this happened," he whispered.

"No Vincent, it wasn't your fault. Please, you can't endanger yourself or your people. I'll be all right. I'll simply tell them she fell. I'll leave out that you were here at all."

"If you're sure?"

Gwen smiled, "Yes, I am. Go Vincent and thank you for coming to my rescue once again." She hugged him.

Vincent was still for a moment completely taken by surprise by Gwen's actions. Then he hugged her back.

"I'll come to check on you in a few days," he said.

"All right but don't endanger yourself," she cautioned.

"I might send a friend to check on you if you aren't alone. Would that be all right?"

"Of course. Now go, please."

Vincent moved down the hallway reluctantly.

Gwen listened for the closing of the window and then she reached for the phone to dial 911.

TBC . . . .


End file.
